Take Time to Smell the Roses
by Floralia
Summary: A simple hunt in the forest turns into an unwanted adventure that neither brother could have anticipated. Co-written with Gidgetgal9 for Sendintheclowns’ birthday.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Take Time to Smell the Roses

**Summary:** A simple hunt in the forest turns into an unwanted adventure that neither brother could have anticipated.

**Warnings:** Some language, nothing major. Set some time after Hunted.

**Disclaimer:** We're not associated with the show in any way and are doing this for fun, not money.

Gidgetgal9- A/N: This story was a fun venture. I so loved getting to work with Floralia. Happy Birthday Sendintheclowns! You are the best and the reason I write fan fiction. Oh and a big thanks to BlueEyedDemonLiz for taking time to beta this for us!

Floralia – A/N: Happy Birthday Sendintheclown! Thanks to Gidgetgal9 for tackling this with me, it was fun, and to BlueEyedDemonLiz for the last minute beta.

**Take Time to Smell the Roses**

**Part One**

In an ideal world, Dean would have got the blaze under control before his brother regained consciousness. But the confused and slightly alarmed "What the Hell?" from behind him just went to prove he could never be that lucky.

"Slight change of plan," he called back, fighting the urge to look over his shoulder and assess his brother's condition, trusting the incredulous snort and annoyed "you _think_" to tell him what his eyes could not: Sam was no longer prone and unmoving. And if the "_Slight, _Jesus Dean," was anything to go by, be had not been rendered stupid or speechless by the blow to the head.

Sometimes Dean just couldn't catch a break.

Dean was aware of his own hypocrisy even if Sam's indignation grated – if it hadn't been for the worry over how fast Sam had hit that tree, or more accurately his failure to get straight back up again, Dean would not have felt the need to start with the impromptu barbeque at all.

It had been a weird hunt, even for them. Dean still found it hard believe they'd been up against an evil Willow tree, but that was exactly what his geeky brother had repeatedly been assuring him of. That was why they had spent the better part of the morning traipsing through the forested area of the Ozarks, on the look out for this evil tree.

"_So Sam, how does a tree go evil?" Dean had queried as they made their way along the trail to the area where a few unexplained attacks had occurred._

"_Well actually the willow would have to be controlled by something evil. Willow trees are considered good trees and if you plant them they are supposed to keep evil away. But they are also favourites of witches and used in their magic. My guess is that this tree is under the spell of a witch, probably to keep people away from her tree." Sam paused in his rambling and Dean had to smile at his own walking encyclopaedia of the supernatural._

"_Huh, so that would explain why the thin branches could come to life and try to grab the hikers."_

"_Yeah, the two hikers reported that the tree did grab one of them pushing him away, he probably got too close. All we have to do is keep our distance and perform the cleansing ritual. Easy as pie." Sam's voice was full of confidence._

"_What if it's not a witch cursed tree, just an evil tree?" Dean had wanted to believe things would go easy, but that just wasn't their luck._

"_Willows are not evil trees, so somehow something has tainted it. Even if it's not a witch's spell, a cleansing ritual will take care of the problem." _

"_Sure thing, geek boy." Dean had to stifle the laughter at the thought of his brother getting his panties in a wad over his attack on the willow tree's character._

Shaking off the memories of Sam's assurances, Dean went back to hastily trying to pat out the flames with the broad surface of his shovel.

Cleansing rituals were all well and good, but they had their place. And where one was hemmed in away from their supplies and the other was unconscious, was definitely not it. Fire could be plenty cleansing as far as Dean was concerned.

Somehow he didn't think Sam was going to agree with the logic of that. Especially after the time and energy he'd put into convincing Dean to go with the ritual in the first place.

"A little help maybe? Sam?" He did look over his shoulder then, fire be damned. Because Sam bitching was one thing, but Sam bitching and not making any effort to put out the blaze he'd wanted to avoid starting was something else entirely.

"Yeah, gimme a sec."

Dean spared a few seconds to take Sam in, arms extended to support his trembling frame; eyes closed and not yet off the ground.

"Sam, talk to me," he ordered, turning back to the job at hand. Sam was conscious and seemingly coherent even if he wasn't moving, and Dean's priority had to be on putting out their little fire before it was allowed to get out of hand

"I'm okay."

"Sure you are," Dean murmured as the hiss of pain and mild curse reached him over the sound of the flames.

Sam was on his feet again by the time the undergrowth had been thoroughly extinguished, one hand resting against the tree he had collided with, the other wrapped around his waist.

"What happened to the cleansing?" he asked before Dean could jump in with any questions of his own, and in a tone that made the majority of them unnecessary.

Anyone who could complain straight off the mark was fine.

"Same thing that happened with the 'it's peaceful Dean, it hasn't killed anyone yet, we need to put it to rest not kill it': It was Bull."

"It just felt threatened Dean," Sam rolled his eyes, "So it lashed out."

"Yeah, well. Me too," Dean muttered, earning him a lip twitch in response. "Let me see."

"'s okay," Sam assured him, pushing off from the tree and batting away Dean's hands as he tried to get a look at how badly Sam was hurting.

"You're bleeding," Dean told him, pointing to the red spots on his t-shirt that Sam's arm was currently shielding.

"No kidding," Sam said dryly.

"Then don't tell me that you're…"

"It's just a scratch, it's not that bad. Let's just get out of here before it gets dark."

Dean continued to stare until Sam huffed out a sigh and raised his shirt to allow Dean to see for himself.

"Well…?" He enquired with his eyebrows raised, but an indulgent smile on his face.

There was a nasty graze on Sam's side and the surrounding area was already starting to bruise. At the centre of the damage was a large scratch stretching around Sam's side, still slowly dripping blood.

Dean cleared away the dripping trail with his thumb to gauge how quickly it was still flowing.

"Ouch… watch it," Sam squirmed away and covered himself back up indignantly, and Dean had the grace to feel a little guilty after Sam had voluntarily succumbed to the examination.

"It's not too deep," he relented, although if he kept pulling on it that way it would probably end up needing stitches. He followed to where Sam was already packing away the paraphernalia of his aborted ritual. "We'll get it patched up properly when we're back at the motel; you're only going to be pulling it walking. Just keep pressure on it for now."

"Gee, why didn't I think of that?" Sam shook his head good-naturedly, hissing again as he bent to snag up his backpack from the forest floor. Dean left him to it and went to recover his shovel and discarded shotgun, stopping to make sure the smouldering ruins of the tree posed no risk of re-igniting.

"It would have worked you know," Sam called out from behind him, and Dean turned to find his brother shouldering his pack but refusing to look in Dean's – and his carnage's – direction,

"Yeah, I know." He relented.

"You just needed to give it a little more time to take."

"Time... Sam. You might not have noticed with the whole being unconscious thing, but it wasn't exactly keen on the 'giving us time' idea, okay. It was you or the tree, Sam. What choice did you expect me to make?"

Maybe he'd have been able to hold it off long enough for the banishment to kick in, Dean honestly didn't know, but it hadn't really occurred to him to try. Not when he had a guaranteed method of disposing of their little problem without the need to provide it with the time to throw them around some more. But he would not be letting Sam know the instinct to lash out had been as natural as breathing.

They'd set up base deep into the forest, but only an hour's hike from the road and their car. There was less need for stealth this side of the kill, so when they'd been walking for over an hour with no sign of the trees getting any thinner Dean felt the first dull flickers of concern.

"How you doing back there?" he called over his shoulder. They'd left the clearing side-by-side, Dean still trying to defend his decision to use fire over oil and words, but it had not escaped him that Sam had gradually started to lag. But Dean could still hear him scrabbling and cursing through the undergrowth behind him so had chosen not to worry. Yet.

It was almost dark now, the meagre sunlight having a hard time filtering through the thick blanket of trees, and the temperature had also dropped dramatically as the light had faded. Even Dean was feeling the chill beneath his jacket despite the pace he had been setting.

Sam mumbled something undeterminable in response but in a tone that made Dean smile, even if he did feign tying his shoelace to allow his brother to catch up.

Sam was quiet; his focus on the uneven floor, concentration seemingly on remaining on his feet and Dean tried to keep silent with him. But after another 40 minutes and the realisation his fingers were numb from the cold, Dean could keep it in no longer.

"We should be at the road by now," he voiced conversationally, trying to gauge Sam's reaction. Nothing about this job had gone to plan so far, and being lost in the forest would be a fitting way to end it. But Dean knew they weren't that sloppy. He knew the trail they'd taken; they'd traipsed through more than their fair share of wilderness, and this had been part of their training. There was no way they could be lost. Dean refused to believe it.

Apart from the small detail that they had yet to reach the car.

"Hmmmmh?" Was Sam's only contribution. His brother was shaking, but Dean could see the sheen of sweat on his forehead even in the dim light. He'd been unconscious for close to five minutes – all the determination in the world was only going to get them so far. They had to get out of here sooner rather than later – but for some reason that just wasn't happening.

Sighing Dean pulled a compass from the pocket of his pack.

"We lose the trail? Sam asked him, frowning at the object in Dean's hands. "We were on it last I checked." He took a couple of steps away from Dean, scanning their surroundings.

"Me too. Well we're heading in the right direction," he gave the compass a quick shake just to be sure, "I just don't know where we are."

"Uh, Dean? I might be able to help with that."

Dean turned to see Sam disappearing into the gloom, and jogged after him with a curse. He only made it a few steps before he found himself in a small clearing. He was just about to ask what Sam was talking about when he smelt it – the faint scent of burning still lingering in the air two hours later.

"You're kidding me!" Dean exclaimed, "What the Hell?" They'd gone in a circle. They'd gone in a giant two hour circle and wound up exactly where they'd started from.

"Tell me about it," Sam agreed. He'd been resting with his hands on his knees, and Dean could see his heavy panting breath fogging the air in front of his face, but as Dean looked over at him Sam pushed himself upright, stamping his feet in an effort to warm them and blowing on his hands.

"You alright?" Casual was the best approach if he wanted a genuine answer. Not that there was much either of them could do about it if the answer was no.

"I got a choice?" Sam smiled grimly.

"You still bleeding?"

"Not too much."

"But that's a yes? Shit Sam!"

"What do you want me to do? You said yourself there's nothing we can do about it until we get out of here." He wasn't angry, just tired, and that in itself set Dean's alarm bells ringing. But Sam was right – the position of the wound meant any attempt to bandage it would only be undone by walking. Sam pulled on it with every step he took, and his little brother was not so little – there was no way Dean could carry him _and_ their gear for three miles.

"Come on… lets just try this again shall we?"

Dean nodded and followed Sam out of the clearing. To lose themselves was one thing, but to turn up exactly where they'd started, out of all the vast miles of woodland they could stumble through – that felt like something else entirely. And he didn't like it.

He could see Sam stumble occasionally on the path in front of him, but Sam remained silent so Dean didn't acknowledge that he'd noticed it, just bit his own lip and kept behind him, letting him set the pace. But after a few minutes trekking in silence the drive that had set Sam striding away from the scene of their last kill appeared to have left him, and their going was slow.

If the path had been wide enough Dean would have walked along side him to offer a steadying presence; even though Dean was trying not to crowd him he could tell Sam felt hurried having Dean at his rear. But the trees to their left were too thick, and there was a mild slope downwards to their right that would make walking there difficult. At least Dean remembered this from their fist trip into the forest, what felt like days earlier.

He was freezing cold now, the sweat generated by their initial hike and his battle with the flames was drying chill on his body, and they were moving too slowly now to work up heat. Sam was pausing occasionally on the trail in front of him, half turning as though checking Dean was still there in a way that had to be pulling on his injured side.

Dean was on the verge of telling him to cut it out, he was still following, when he stumbled himself and had to put a hand to the higher ground on his left to steady himself. It hadn't occurred to him how badly the fallen leaves had been billowing around his feet, but for the brief moment he was leaning to the side and out of Sam's shadow he was suddenly hit by the full force of the wind. It was blowing straight into their faces; Sam had no shield from it and seemed to be struggling to put one foot in front of the other. He wasn't turning to check on Dean – he was trying to clear his vision and keep his footing.

"Sam!" He had to shout twice for his voice to carry over the wind and distance.

Sam turned wobblingly to meet his gaze.

"Stay there. We need to get you behind me." It would be easier for Sam to walk if Dean could shield him from the worst of the wind, and Sam was starting to look as though anything that would make the going easier for him should be grasped hold of.

"What?" As Sam half turned he staggered and lost his footing, his left leg sliding down the slope as it tried to find purchase among the fallen leaves. He had to twist himself backwards and around to face Dean to stop himself from slipping off the trail and down the hill, landing heavily on his backside. And if the scream and the curse that reached Dean were anything to go by it wouldn't have mattered if they'd taken the time and effort to clean and patch up Sam's side before they'd got moving – that little manoeuvre would have undone any attempt at treatment that might have used.

With Sam on the ground Dean got a face full of wind and leaves and it was a struggle to reach him, during which Sam made no attempt to rise. When Dean could finally lay hands on him Sam was panting heavily through clenched teeth, one hand clamped firmly against his side and curling into it to try and escape the pain.

"Lemmie see," Dean ordered softly, touching Sam's elbow and coaxing, noting that Sam offered no resistance this time to Dean's inspection. The poor light and the colour of Sam's clothing did a lot to conceal it, but from the dark stains on Sam's hand and his still uneven breathing Dean knew the wound was doing more than trickling now.

"I said let me go in front of you," Dean repeated, stepping over Sam's legs and crouching on his other side in an effort to protect him from the wind, trying not to let the weight of his pack send him toppling to his ass at Sam's side. Sam just let out a weak snort of a laugh and nodded, eyes closing momentarily. But when they opened again they were clearer.

"'M okay," he issued weakly, then cleared his throat and continued, voice stronger. "Just took me by surprise is all. I'll be okay."

"Sure you will," Dean agreed, and Sam nodded again as though that settled the matter.

"Here," Dean started, struggling out of his pack and jacket and removing his shirt, "We can at least put some pressure on it – we're gonna need both hands free for balance."

"You're gonna freeze," Sam protested as Dean bundled the shirt up for padding and made to tie the arms firmly around Sam's waist.

"Nah, I'll be good." But even he couldn't conceal the way he was shaking crouched in the driving wind clad only in a t-shirt. "We have to slow this down Sam."

Sam nodded reluctantly and raised his arms so Dean could get to his side, hissing and groaning as Dean pulled the material as tightly as he dared and knotted it. It wasn't much, but hopefully the constant pressure would be enough to tide him over until they made it back to the motel, or at least the car.

"You good to continue?" Dean asked, scrambling back into his layers and under his bag.

"Yeah, help me up." Sam offered tightly. He swayed slightly as he took a few experimental steps but Dean had to take his 'I'm good' at face value. He didn't have a great deal of choice.

He'd felt better having Sam in front of him where he could see for himself how well his brother was coping, but he didn't have much time to concentrate on anything else while battling the wind, and that in itself let him know they'd made the right decision having Dean take the lead. He didn't have to feign a slow pace and Sam kept close, making the most of the cover Dean provided. After 10 minutes of struggling the ground levelled off once more and the trail took them away from the rise and its wind tunnel and back into the forest proper. He could still hear the wind creaking ominously overhead, see the dangerous sway of the trees, but they were shielded from the worst of it.

He'd been on the look-out for the small brook they had to cross – the next marker on his trail and sign they were still going in the right direction – for almost 20 minutes before he allowed himself to officially worry. He'd picked up their pace once the ground had levelled – while it was more sheltered here the air was still bitterly cold and clouded with their breath, and he wanted to cover as much distance as they could while Sam was still mobile.

Sam had seemed only too happy to comply with this strategy, but over the last mile any attempt at conversation had all but ceased, and Sam's clipped one word answers were perhaps the best indication Dean had of how well Sam was fairing. It told him what Sam's efforts and stoic front did not – that they really didn't want to find themselves lost out here. Again.

"I don't understand it man," Dean had his compass out once more and was striding around in frustration. "We're definitely going the right way, so why the hell aren't we getting anywhere?"

"Road's North," Sam pointed out, and Dean knew what he was getting at. If they kept going straight they would hit the road at some point, they had to, it just wouldn't be the trail that led them straight to their car.

But with a sinking feeling Dean knew the logic of that had not worked out too well for them last time.

Dean also knew Sam picked up on his doubts, but thankfully he didn't voice them, and they pressed on in silence. Dean had taken the lead again, not keeping to the path but venturing slightly into the trees on either side, still searching for signs of something recognisable that might put them back on the right path. It was beyond frustrating.

"Dean?"

"Yeah."

"De…"

It was fainted and more breathy the second time, and that got Dean turning. Sam had paused further down the trail. He was leaning against a tree and visibly shaking.

"I don' thin'…"

"Hey! Hey, hey, hey," Dean sprinted the distance to him, not liking the way Sam was swaying. The definite slur to his words.

"Talk to me," he instructed gently, taking in Sam's pale hue in the moonlight, the way his head was bowed and his breathing deep but unsteady.

"Dizzy," Sam whispered, raising his head slightly to meet Dean's enquiring gaze with guilty eyes.

"Okay," Dean offered, resting a light hand on Sam's shoulder. "You wanna sit?"

Sam swallowed deeply and shook his head. "I need…. Don't think I'll get back up."

His grip on his brother's shoulder tightened in the face of Sam's honesty.

"Alright… just take a minute." He maintained his hold, increasingly aware that he and the tree were the only things keeping Sam on his feet. He knew Sam was still bleeding; the damp patch on his 'bandage' was larger every time he checked it. But standing close to him Dean could take in Sam's trembling frame, the concentration behind regulating his breathing, and as he brought up one shaking, bloodstained hand to push his hanging hair from out of his eyes, Dean could see for the first time the blossoming bruise on the side of his forehead.

Dean swallowed and looked away, wanting to give Sam the privacy to compose himself but knowing he wasn't steady on his feet enough to be allowed that luxury. He'd been knocked out – his brother had been unconscious for a substantial amount of time, and under normal circumstances that would barely have been worthy of notice. They would have made it to the car, taken it easy for the rest of the evening, maybe dosed up on painkillers and had an early night, but it would hardly break the stride of their routine, and how wrong was that? Not that they would ever say it.

"Warn me if you're gonna hurl, alright." He ordered instead, more relieved by Sam's shaky laugh that he wanted to admit.

"Is it your head or your side?" he asked, relaxing slightly as Sam started to take back some of his own weight.

"I gotta pick one?" Sam murmured, but he was smiling ruefully. "I'm okay now, we can keep going." He straightened up, still swaying slightly.

"You sure?"

"Do I have much choice?" Sam met his gaze briefly and Dean wished he didn't see the worry in Sam's eyes, but he would not acknowledge it. Would not admit that maybe Sam had a cause for it, even if his own guts were clenching with anxiety.

They were moving again but the pace was slower, and Sam had to pause more often to steady himself or catch his breath, one eye on Dean the whole time, who tried not to let his impatience show. It wasn't Sam's fault he was moving so slowly. It wasn't Sam's fault Dean couldn't seem to find their damn way out of the forest, or that the night was deeper and colder than fall in the Ozarks, had a right to be. He was just providing the one added thing they didn't want to have to think about.

Lost and cold was one thing. Stranded and slowly bleeding to death was something else entirely, and he could only pray it wouldn't get that far. That any second now they would feel tarmac beneath their feet and this stupid hunt would be over. He didn't want Sam to have to think about that. He didn't want Sam to have to think about anything but finding the reserves to put one foot in front of the other.

It was that instinct that got him trying to turn Sam around 20 minutes later.

Unfortunately since Sam was the one that had suggested they just continue in their current direction and see where that took them, he didn't quite see the logic behind the move.

Dean was fairly sure logic had left them hours ago.

"Dean, what..? Come on, what's going on?"

It wasn't that Sam was putting up enough of a fight to actually break free and get by him; it was more that Dean didn't want to hurt him further trying to restrain him. And he really didn't want to be alone in this.

Sam took a few wobbling steps up the trail.

"What were you..?"

Dean could tell the instant Sam's foggy brain figured out what Dean had been trying to protect him from – several seconds after Dean would have liked it too. Just where their steps had taken them. Not only did he stop talking as he took in the clearing, the torn foliage and singed earth, but his whole posture wilted dangerously. But when Sam turned to face him he must have seen the defeat lining Dean's own features, because his jaw hardened and he nodded acceptingly.

"Well okay then," and his voice was surprisingly strong. "You think maybe we missed something?"

Dean took a steadying breath and smirked, trying to keep things light. "Yeah, or we pissed something off. But whatever is going on here, we need to make camp and rethink our plans."

Sam finally let his weariness show on his face and nodded. "Okay, but we don't have many supplies."

Dean watched as Sam slumped down hard until he was sitting on the ground.

"Nope, we weren't planning on camping out, but we've made do with worse. I think the first order of business is to start a campfire. With the wind dying down, I think we're okay in this spot. I'll just grab some firewood, be right back."

Dean gave Sam an appraising look, the kid looked bad, pale and sweaty. A night in the woods was the last thing his little brother needed, but they really didn't have a choice. Dean gave his brother a reassuring smile before he headed off for firewood.

It hadn't taken long for Dean to get a good fire going, but during that short time his brother had managed to look worse. At least it seemed that way to Dean.

"Sammy, let's get you stitched up." Dean said as he approached his dazed brother.

When Sam didn't respond, Dean quickly slumped down next to his brother giving him a gentle shake. "Earth to Sammy."

Sam turned his glassy stare towards Dean. "D-Dean where are we?"

_Shit, this is bad_. Dean took a calming breath before he answered.

"We're in the woods. You had a fight with an evil willow tree and lost. Remember?"

Sam nodded. "N-Not evil Dean."

Dean smiled at his confused but stubborn sibling. "Well, whatever it was it knocked you for a loop, and now we're camping out. But first I need to stitch you up: do you think we could get you closer to the campfire? The light is better there, and it's warmer."

" 'Kay." Sam replied quietly and started to stand only to fall back in place.

"Huh, I think I'm stuck." Sam whispered out as he winced.

"Alright Sasquatch, let me do most of the work." Dean wrapped his arms around the waist of his ailing sibling and gave a gentle tug. It took some work but Dean slowly got Sam to stand, and then half dragged him a few feet until they were seated in front of the warm fire.

Dean reached into his duffle bag and pulled out a flask. "Here Sammy, take a few sips of this while I get the supplies together to stitch you."

Sam took the flask and looked at it, puzzled.

Dean huffed a little and took the flask back, unscrewing the cap and then holding the bottle in front of Sam's lips. "Drink this."

Sam opened his mouth and took a couple of sips, sputtering a bit as he did. Dean took it away and placed the cap back, sitting the flask next to him.

Over the next half hour, Dean slowly took care of Sam's injury. He was hindered by his brother's confusion, but luckily the wound itself didn't present any problems. It looked clean, and Sam wasn't showing any signs of infection.

The blood loss and head injury were definitely making themselves known. His brother was very confused, and exhausted. Dean just hoped a good night's sleep would be enough for his sibling to make the trek out of the woods in the morning.

Dean's stomach grumbled and he realized that another important factor in having the strength to leave in the morning involved food. Unfortunately, they hadn't brought much.

"Sammy, I need to fix us something to eat. How about some jerky stew, think you could keep that down?" Dean started digging in the duffle bag, pulling out a small pot that they kept for emergencies and jerky sticks.

"Ewww Dean. Not jerky stew, didn't you at least bring some beans?" Sam looked about five with his face scrunched up.

"Sam, we were only going to be here a few hours so no, this and some candy bars are all I have. So suck it up." Dean figured the candy bars would at least make some good desert.

"Well, I'm telling Dad. You _so_ weren't prepared." Sam huffed out.

Dean's eyes widen at Sam's tone and words. He sounded just like he did when he was thirteen, and with the mention of Dad, Dean realized that his brother was a bit more confused than he'd first realized.

Trying not to let his worry show, Dean smirked and replied. "You got me on that one Sammy. But seriously dude, jerky stew is all there is, and you need to eat to keep your strength up, okay?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

After a not so filling dinner of stew and candy, Dean was relieved when his brother curled up by the fire and went to sleep. Minus his outer shirt, and with his brother's head injury, Dean decided to stay up all night. The fire needed to be stoked and it might be a good idea to wake Sam every so often, just to be safe, and Dean was stuck with the honours. Not that he minded; he never minded taking care of Sam. Or at least most of the time he didn't.

What was bothering Dean was not knowing what was going on. They shouldn't be going in circles, he knew that. So that left one option; something supernatural was playing with them.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

For notes and disclaimer see Part One

**Part Two**

Sam felt small delicate hands touching his face. Caressing. _Jess_? He must have spoken the word, because he heard a small giggle. No, not Jess.

Opening his eyes, his breath caught in his throat. A beautiful and very petite creature was crouched in front of him. Definitely a creature, because she had wings and was nude.

_Dreaming, I must be dreaming._

The long blond haired creature giggled again. Without her speaking he heard her in his head.

_You're not dreaming Sam. I'm real. I've come to check on you. We want to teach your brother a lesson but we don't want you do die. I was placing a spell on you to keep the infection away. You'll be sore for awhile, and weak, but will survive._

Before Sam could speak or think the creature kissed him and he felt warm and peaceful all over.

_You are powerful and kind. A good match, it will get you through the darkness. Take care Sam._

Sam could hear another giggle before he was taken away into the peaceful blackness.

-0-

Dean thought he heard a female giggle. He shook his head and chuckled. _Sam's the one with the head injury, why am I hearing things? _

Nature had called and Dean was returning to the campfire when he heard the giggle again. This time he raced back to his brother.

What he found left him speechless for a moment. A very small woman, nude with wings, was hunched over his brother.

Dean found his voice and growled out. "Get away from him, now."

The creature glared back and stood. "He will live. I was making sure of that."

"Huh, and why would I believe that? You're a faerie right? If I remember my lore right, you're tricksters."

The small thing giggled again. "We can be, if it suites us. Normally we keep to ourselves, but sometimes it is necessary to intervene and teach outsiders a lesson."

"A lesson, is that what you call leaving me and my injured brother lost in the woods, a lesson! Because all it's taught me is that you're tricksters and up to no good." Dean seethed out.

"You were blinded Dean. Blinded by your brother, and failed to see the consequences of your actions. Sam was right, all you had to do was cleanse the tree. But instead of heeding the words of wisdom, you acted out in anger. You let your anger override your reason. That was a mistake." The blond winged creature's tone became very angry.

"The fire took care of the tree. I was careful. You're the one not using reason, my brother could have bled to death tonight because of your actions." Dean moved a little closer, trying to remember all the lore on faeries but his memory was failing him.

The small creature actually huffed in reply. "Careful? I watched you. Your mind was not on the fire, it was on your brother. Beside the fact, the tree did not have to be sacrificed. That tree was part of my home and you destroyed it out of anger. You threatened my entire home with a reckless fire. You must learn to control your feelings when it comes to your brother. Keep your emotions in check or it will be your undoing."

Dean stepped closer, wishing that the creature would move away from his brother. "Tell you what, first thing in the morning, we'll leave and you won't have to worry about us anymore."

The faerie nodded. "Yes you will leave. Sam will live but you will learn to respect nature."

"Respect nature? What is that supposed to mean?" Dean didn't like the twinkle in the little winged thing's eyes.

"It means that after today's experience, you will know not to mess with Mother Nature, because if you do she will bite you in the ass." The faerie giggled and started flapping its wings and disappeared into the night.

"Great, either I'm seeing things or I've really been played by a hot faerie." Dean mumbled as he sat down to check on his injured sibling.

He gently shook Sam and watched as his little brother struggled to find his way to consciousness.

"Hmmm." Sam tried to wipe the sleep from his eyes and looked like a rumpled toddler.

"How you feeling Sammy?" Dean was still concerned that the petite creature had done something to his brother.

"I-I feel okay Dean. I had a weird dream though." Sam gave him a dopey smile.

"Not a bad one Sam?" Dean hoped that the faerie hadn't messed with Sam's head.

"Nope, it was nice. I dreamed about a faerie, weird huh?" Sam's silly smile widened. It reminded Dean of the times he had dealt with a drunk brother.

"Faerie huh? She didn't do anything to you did she?" Dean could hear the concern in his voice but his brother was oblivious.

"She kissed me, it was nice." Sam sighed and Dean's stomach clenched. The thought that the kiss was part of a spell scared the crap out of him.

"Huh, well Sam in lore when a faerie kisses you it's part of a spell. In your dream, did the faerie place a spell on you?" Dean held his breath waiting for an answer.

Sam scratched his head in confusion. "Oh yeah, she said she was placing a spell on me to keep the infection away. Do you think that was my minds way of coping with the injury?"

Dean could see his brother was finally more with it. His eyes were clearer and the last statement was pure geek boy.

A relieved sigh escaped Dean's lips. The spell hopefully was to help his brother. He could live with that.

"Maybe Sam, your freak brain is hard to figure out." Dean gave his brother a reassuring smile.

"Yeah, I did hit my head right? It hurts like I did, but everything is a bit fuzzy." Sam gave Dean a quizzical look.

Dean knew that in his brother's confused state he would be answering the same questions a number of times, but he was fine with that as long as Sam was okay.

"Your head is a bit fuzzy due to the fact you hit your head and are suffering from blood loss. Those two together are packing a bit of a punch."

"Huh, and how did I get injured?"

Dean sighed. "You tangoed with a tree and lost. You hit your head, ripped your side open a bit, and I burned the evil willow tree that was responsible. Then we walked in circles in the woods and decided to have a camp out. Remember any of that Sammy?" Dean watched as his brother processed the information he had given him.

"Yeah, okay but the tree wasn't evil."

Dean chuckled at his stubborn brother. "I think it was Sammy."

Sam rolled his eyes and then gazed into the fire. "I wonder why the faerie said she was teaching you a lesson? Do you know Dean?"

He could tell his little brother was becoming confused again, and not wanting to answer the faerie question, Dean changed the subject.

"Sammy, you need to rest so we can hike out of here tomorrow okay?" Dean patted his brother's shoulder and was happy to see his sibling follow instructions as he laid back down, closing his eyes.

"Night Dean."

"Night Sammy."

0-

Sam awoke to a fuzzy head and a sore side. The fire was still going and he was grateful that it was keeping the morning chill away.

He did feel guilty that Dean had stayed up all night tending to the fire. Looking around he spied his brother a foot away from him.

"Hey Sammy, how ya feeling?" Dean asked, shivering a bit.

Sam realized that his brother was only wearing a light t-shirt. Sam grabbed at his brother's flannel shirt trying to get it loose.

"Sam, stop. You'll need the shirt when we start hiking. Walking is going to pull at your stitches and the shirt will help keep pressure on you wound." Dean's voice was stern.

"You're freezing." Sam sighed, knowing his brother wasn't going to give in.

"You're wounded, so I think you need it more, and I'm the oldest so I'm always right." Dean smirked.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Whatever, so should we head out?"

"Do you feel up to it?" Dean was studying Sam up and down.

"I'm sore Dean, but I feel stronger." Sam tried to give Dean a confident smile.

"Well, I guess we don't have much choice. Here." Dean tossed Sam a candy bar. "Breakfast of champions."

"Or Winchesters." Sam replied as he grasped the candy bar and worked to open it.

"Same difference." Dean replied.

"Yeah. Sam smiled and then his expression became thoughtful. "Dean, do you think we should try the path this time?" Sam's voice held a tremor of doubt.

"I think we'll be good this time. Sam, I have a confession. Do you remember your dream last night about the faerie? Dean looked away sheepishly.

"Uh, oh yeah, that was weird. I told you about it?" Sam couldn't understand why Dean was turning red, it was Sam's dream that was embarrassing. _Faeries? Who dreamed about them?_

"Not a dream Sammy, she confronted me too. I pissed her and her friends off with my fire. They liked your plan better. So, the whole getting lost was her way of venting some anger. I'm supposed to respect nature or something like that." Dean finally gave him some eye contact and Sam could see the guilt there.

_Typical Dean, whenever I get hurt he assumes it's his fault. _

Sam sighed. "The tree did hurt me, and you were protecting me. I get that. But I can see why it might scare the creatures that call this forest their home. So do you think we've paid our due, and now we can leave?"

"God I hope so!" Dean grumbled as he started to put the fire out.

"We need to make sure that we leave things exactly as they should be before we head out. It would suck to leave a candy wrapper and find ourselves stuck here for another night." Sam replied as he picked up a few items next to him.

"Yes it would, but you are going to sit still while I get our stuff together. I don't want you pulling your stitches before we even start hiking. If you see something that needs picking up, tell me and I'll get it."

Dean was in full blown protective big brother mode so Sam knew he needed to do as he was told.

"Damn, your bossy." Sam smirked as his brother glared back.

"Bitch." Dean muttered as he resumed picking up their stuff.

-0-

The first five minutes of the hike went well. Sam seemed to have recouped a lot of his lost energy from the day before, and Dean found himself relaxing a bit.

That was until he heard the rumble of thunder.

"Crap, is that what I think it is?" Dean mumbled as he led them up the path.

Sam sounded slightly breathless. "It wasn't your stomach was it? If not, it's thunder."

"Ha, Ha, you're so funny." Dean turned to get a good look at Sam. His brother was a bit pale and slightly winded, but seemed to be doing okay.

"Dean, let's keep moving, maybe we'll beat the storm."

Dean nodded. He just hoped their luck would hold up; so far this morning hadn't been too bad.

Hope was over rated in Dean's book. The rain was pouring down, and the wind had picked up.

Dean had goosebumps the size of dimes and it was hard to concentrate on the trail in front of them.

Then there was Sam, he was being a trooper. The wind was making it hard for Sam to keep his balance and Dean did his best to make himself into a wind break. The weather was definitely slowing their progress and made it pretty hard to tell if they were making any head way.

"D-Dean, could we stop for just a minute?" Sam's voice was shaky and it cause Dean to stop immediately to assess his brother.

Sam nodded to a few larger trees and the two of them found shelter from the down pour.

"Let me look at your wound?" Dean asked as he approached his brother.

Sam tried to shoo his brother off. "M' fine."

Dean just shook his head and carefully pulled up the layers of clothing that surrounded the wound. The stitches had definitely pulled and his brother was bleeding again. It wasn't heavy, but after the previous day's blood loss, it was worrisome.

"You're bleeding but not bad." Dean gave Sam a reassuring smile. "I'm thinking it wouldn't hurt to try and wait the rain out."

"Yeah, we could wait for a bit. Do you think the faerie has something to do with the weather?" Sam's voice was weak and shaky.

"I don't know Sammy. But hold on, I promise I'll get you out of here." Dean's mind was worried now. What if the faerie was still punishing him? Teaching him respect through fear. _Well if that was the goal, it was working._

"Sammy, stay right here buddy, I'm going to scout out the area a bit, I won't go far." Sam nodded and leaned heavily against the tree.

Dean did a quick surveillance of the area, and found no faeries. The weather made it hard to assess how far they were from the park's parking area.

"D-Dean, I was thinking about faerie lore and uh, maybe if we left an offering it might please them? They like bread or trinkets. I could leave my watch. It's shiny and not a sentimental item. Do you have an offering?" Sam's voice continued to shake and Dean hoped it was due to the cold and not shock.

"Uh, as for food, I could leave what's left of my Peanut M&M stash. I could leave my watch too. Do you think that would be enough?" Dean voice shook; the cold was definitely taking its toll on the two of them.

"I-I uh well, maybe if you said something about not meaning to, you know, hurt the tree? That might help." Sam's voice was very quiet and he knew he needed to get the kid out of here soon.

"Yeah, okay, give me your watch and I'll leave it and my stuff over here under that big oak tree, and I'll say something."

Sam gave Dean an unsure look as he handed over his watch.

"Sam, I'll say something nice, I promise."

Dean walked over to the big oak and laid the items down in a clump together, not sure exactly what to say.

He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Uh, I'm not really good at this sort of thing but I did want to say if you're listening that, I'm sorry. I should have been more careful in dealing with the willow tree. Sam is the only family I have left and sometimes my protection of him is my down fall. I realize that, and I promise that the next time I'm in the great outdoors I'll be more aware. Okay? I hope we're good."

Dean slowly made his way back to Sam, feeling awkward and weird spouting apologies to an oak tree.

"So?" Sam asked the minute he approached.

"I did it, so I guess we wait and see what happens." Dean sighed.

"Yeah." Sam echoed his sigh. "We wait."

-0-

Dean could only hope that their offering had managed to appease the faeries, because as they huddled under the shelter of the trees they finished the last of their water and shared Dean's only remaining emergency candy bar. He hated being inactive; taking the 'wait and see' approach was never his thing, but it was his impulsive thinking that had got them into this mess in the first place – well, that, a killer tree, and some pesky morally outraged faerie folk.

It ate at him to know the little creature was going to get away with abusing them in this way, but pushing the matter would only make things worse and he couldn't count on Sam to back him up. Not only was he in no condition for a fight, but the tree loving freak probably agreed with them.

"Rain isn't stopping," Sam spoke up at last.

Dean cocked one eyebrow in Sam's direction and his brother shrugged. "Just making conversation," he said with a smile.

"I apologised alright, let it go."

He was exhausted and soaked to the skin. He hadn't been able to get warm all day and the sleepless night, miles of hiking and hours of worry were taking their toll. As much as the idea of sitting and resting was appealing – or maybe because of it – they had to brave the elements once more and get moving. Vengeful spirits and a whole host of other unsavouries didn't faze them, so they would not cower away from a bit of wind and rain.

"Come on, we should get moving," he nudged Sam's leg and scrambled to his feet, leaning over to grab Sam's elbow to help him haul himself upright. Sam swayed slightly at the initial change in altitude, his other hand grabbing tight at Dean's bicep in an effort to steady himself, but he covered it well, brushing Dean down and pushing him away once he had found his feet, the slightly guilty downturn of his mouth the only sign he had acknowledged his own unsteadiness.

Dean took the time while they were re-shouldering their gear to assess his brother. Sam was paler this morning without the flush of exertion, and he recalled again the faeries words about warding off the threat of infection. But his eyes were ringed with dark shadows and lined with pain, and the bruise on his forehead had blossomed a sickly purple.

"M' alright," Sam murmured, aware of the scrutiny, and Dean nodded tightly.

They'd lost the path again during the morning, before their attempt to make peace, blown off course by the wind. The ground was uneven and slippery, the driving rain turning the forest floor into thick mulch. They were both dragging their feet, weighed down by uncertainty and exhaustion, and scrambling over tree roots and up inclines was hard enough on Dean; he knew it would be doing nothing for Sam's balance or his already torn stitches.

It was an hour later, and Dean didn't think he was ever going to be warm or dry again, when their luck finally broke and they reached the road. One glorious strip of pavement, and Dean swore he was never leaving civilization again.

"No more tree spirits Sammy," he swore, taking his brother's arm and propelling him onwards up the road, not wanting Sam to take the solid ground beneath his feet as an excuse to flag. "No more wendigos or moth men, black dogs or forest dwellers of any kind." They were more exposed to the elements now they had left the cover of the trees, but Dean didn't care about that, because…

"Baby!" he cried exuberantly, making Sam flinch. "Man, are you a sight for sore eyes."

He left Sam staring after him with a slightly bemused expression on his face and jogged the final distance to his car. He'd been worried they were never going to make it back, or that the faeries had moved her or done something horrible to her to teach Dean a lesson, but she was in the same pristine, gleaming condition as when he'd left her, just a little wetter, a little more forlorn looking. Much like her owner.

The doors opened with a creaking whine and they both flopped down onto the front seat with a groan, eyes closed. Sam's momentum didn't even carry him all the way into the car; when Dean finally wrenched his eyes open to investigate the breeze it was to see Sam had stalled with his right leg still outside the car and the door wide open. When he grunted at Sam to get him to close it he received only a weary groan in reply.

Too tired to argue Dean let his mind wander, and it was only his elbow slipping from its prop against the side window some time later that stopped him from falling asleep.

He sat up with a curse, shaking his head to clear it. Sam was still conked out in the seat next to him, but he woke with a start when Dean reached over to drag his wayward leg into the car, almost jumping out of his skin when Dean slammed the door shut next to his ear.

"We're so lame," Dean grumbled, switching on the ignition and getting the heating running. He was still freezing, and the open door had allowed any residual heat the car might have contained to quickly escape. The door had shielded them from the worst of the rain but they were already so wet it was seeping into the upholstery from their hair and clothing.

Heating sorted he fumbled in the glove box for some pain killers, and the foot well for the bottle of water he knew was always lurking there, Sam watching him absently from his perch above as Dean did so. Dean took some pills first, and a long drink, before handing both bottles over to Sam. He was bone weary and so tired that his head was throbbing. He considered briefly going out to fetch some blankets from the trunk but quickly dismissed the idea – the back of the car was too far away and the weather still torrential. And he had a feeling their extra covers would be more useful dry back at the motel than getting wet and useless during the 20 minutes it would take to get there.

It was an effort to get moving. His goal for so long had been the car, and now he was here the fight was leaving him. But their retreat was only half done. They needed to get warm and dry before they crashed or they would both catch pneumonia – Dean knew from his heavy head and limbs that the coming cold was inevitable. And Sam's side still needed to be cleaned and re-stitched. The faeries might have been truthful when they said they'd given him something to ward off infection but that had been hours ago now, and they'd both been sliding in the mud since then.

And thinking of the tricky little forest dwellers got his blood rising enough to help him get moving. They'd been getting rid of the evil that had been encroaching on _their_ forest, that had infected a tree close to their home, and yet the thanks they had got for their efforts had been mind games and threats.

"Sorry" Sam croaked, eyes focusing on Dean's white knuckled grip on the steering wheel.

"For what?" Sam hadn't burnt down a chunk of the forest, and while he hadn't been happy with Dean's course of action, he hadn't once held the consequences of it against him, even as his strength and life was flowing through his fingers. "Hey, I'd agreed to do things your way."

It hadn't exactly been his first choice, but Sam had convinced him to go with the softer approach, and Dean had been fully prepared to back him up on it. Dean had wanted to burn the malevolence right out of the tree, but he wasn't an idiot and he knew how dangerous starting a fire in the middle of a forest could be. If that was what they were going to do then they would have done it right and effort would have been made to contain the flames, clearing the surrounding area to make sure the blaze didn't spread. It wasn't that his actions had been more violent that had angered the faeries as much as his lack of preparation. But Sam had been threatened and he'd reacted on instinct; he hadn't even considered any other consequence outside of Sam being safe.

"Yeah, but I should have got out of the way quicker."

"It got you out of the way plenty quickly enough," Dean told him, and Sam just smiled grimly, the smile turning into a wince as he shifted slightly in his seat.

When Dean pulled away onto the road the air in the car was humid with their drying clothes, and the further away that forest clearing became the more Dean could feel his insides unclench. He didn't fully unwind until they'd reached the main road back into town.

Sam had given up attempting to stay awake and Dean smiled, gently shoving his brother sideways so he was leaning against the door and less likely to slide face first off the seat. It had been a long and trying few months, and he would take a moment of peace wherever he could find it. If Sam wasn't contracting demonic viruses he was almost getting blown up, and Dean couldn't handle his brother's fear over what their future might hold on top of his own. He didn't know how things would play out, but the one thing Dean _was_ sure of was that he had meant every word he had said. If it was the last thing he did, he would save Sam. There was no alternative.

He thought back to what the faerie had told him - that his devotion would be his undoing - and how he'd tried to appease the tricksters by telling them he'd seen the error of his ways. It wasn't that he didn't mean his words, he _was_ sorry; he had endangered their home, Sam, himself, and caused more destruction than he'd needed to. But he knew looking at Sam snoozing in the seat beside him that, faced with the same situation again, he would do exactly the same thing.

He'd prioritised, and he'd placed his brother's life above a tree, no matter how sacred, and above the land immediately surrounding it, even if it had been a part of the faerie's home. He would be more aware of his surroundings in future, have more respect for the power of nature and how his actions might affect others, but at the end of the day Sam was safe, the thing that had threatened him was dead, and he lived to fight another day.

Any other consequences paled in comparison. That was all he needed.

THE END


End file.
